


The Other End of the Hourglass

by thechavanator



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Mutual Pining, background ill-timed love confessions, gratuitious use of italics, i PROMISE this is gonna be happy at some point, i mean according to word of god anyway but who gives a shit about that, in which the author inserts too many mostly-irrelevant headcanons, intertimeline journal writing, nonbinary sylvando, spoilers for like. the entire game, they're idiots.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechavanator/pseuds/thechavanator
Summary: (heed the spoiler tag! takes place at the beginning of act 3, technically)To say that Eleven’s uncomfortable is an understatement.Is it a relief to not have to worry about Mordegon anymore? Of course it is, Eleven would be lying through his teeth (well, his fingers, he supposes) if he claimed otherwise. But he didn’t earn this. He doesn’t really belong here, and as much as everyone is putting on a kind face, he knows they feel the same.---When the timelinedoesn'tcollapse after Eleven travels back, the world's saviors go to visit their fallen friend, only to find that, perhaps, Eleven isn't quite as gone as they'd thought.or, a story after the end. Or perhaps it's just a new beginning?
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	The Other End of the Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> THIRD WARNING: BIG BIG BIG BIG SPOILERS
> 
> OH MAN I had this concept MONTHS AGO and kept being like Hm Maybe I'll Write It but then for valenslimes midnight_marimba lightly used it for [Letters for the Lost and Found](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22688944) (hell, she asked if she could, lmao) and expressed a GREAT DEAL OF INTEREST in seeing more of it. So really, Mar, this is your fault. (Thank you (and everyone else who expressed approval) for the encouragement I ADORED writing what I got so far.)
> 
> My original concept for this was a LOT more sad (if you can believe it, this chapter is melancholy tbh) but I liked this softer idea better. Yeah, it's still a little sad but it gets better, promise! 
> 
> Fun fact: I listened to [ The World Hasn't Even Started Yet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1s8NNPgdl5g) a LOT while writing this, so it's basically the theme song for this fic, lmao. It's cute, and the whole "a whole lot is crummy right now but there's so much good coming" vibe is PERFECT.
> 
> Also: it's not quite explicitly-stated here but Sylv had some fun Gender Thoughts mid-apocalypse and has since realized that they're nonbinary. I mean, if you're already rethinking your life, might as well go all the way, right?

The light fades, and Erik closes his eyes and waits for the end. A moment passes, another, yet another...and yet nothing changes.

He opens his eyes once again to find his friends blinking back at him. It seems they all had the same idea, that this time would fade along with Eleven. “Hey, Timekeeper, what gives?” he asks, trying not to give away the sadness in his heart. “I thought this timeline was lost or whatever.”

“Lost to _him_ , I said.” The Timekeeper shrugs, or the closest equivalent she can manage with her noodle arms and lack of shoulders. “I know not of the results, only the steps to get where he was fated to go,” she murmurs in her strange echoey cadence. “Who is to say where or when time will stop marching on?”

“So we keep living. Without Veronica and without our light,” Serena mumbles, covering her face. She’s trying not to cry, Erik knows; the last time, after Veronica’s death, she had Eleven’s shoulder to cry on, but now, when he’s the reason for her tears, she’s alone. 

Well, she chooses to be, anyway, but Jade pulls her into a hug, and Rab latches onto her legs, and soon all six of them are hugging, in front of Yggdrasil and the _incredibly_ unsettling...well, whatever the Timekeeper is. Erik can feel Serena shuddering as she finally breaks down, and it doesn’t take long at all to bring everyone else down with her.

They stay like that for too long, but Serena pulls herself from the pile, wiping away the last of her tears and forcing a smile onto her face. “Well, we have as much time as we need, I suppose...I’m going to visit Veronica. None of you are obligated to join me, of course—”

“We will,” Jade replies, and in any other situation Erik would find that pretty presumptive (and dickish) of her, but she’s right. After all they’ve been through, Erik doesn’t want to be alone right now, and he’s pretty sure the rest of them would agree. And sure enough, each of them nods, retracing their steps so they can, ideally, leave the tower forever.

Cetacea drops them off at Luminary’s Landing, singing a strange sort of mournful sky-whale song as she soars off into wherever she spends her free time, and they make their way into Arboria. The townsfolk have entirely too many questions for Erik’s liking (he doesn’t want to talk about Eleven with them, and for that matter, if they refer to Eleven as “Luminary” _one more time…_ ), but Serena pays them no mind, pushing through the festivities towards the playground-turned-graveyard.

It seems someone had a similar idea, since the space in front of Veronica’s headstone is occupied. Serena steps closer, ever so gently, until suddenly she gasps, rushing back to Erik and dragging him forward. “Am I dreaming, or is that…”

Erik hadn’t paid the stranger any mind when they had first arrived; the sun isn’t quite shining as brightly as it had been earlier, so the turtleneck hadn’t particularly stood out. But as he draws closer, he notices that what he had thought was a blanket was, actually, a coat.

A _stunningly familiar_ purple coat.

“ _El?!”_ he yells, breaking out of Serena’s hold and rushing towards the grave. “What the hell happened?! You’re not supposed to be back, you—”

The visitor turns around, and sure, that’s Eleven’s face, but at the same time...it’s not, not _really_. His eyes are too innocent, and the look of shock on his face as he scans Erik’s outfit (at least, Erik’s _pretty_ sure El’s looking at his outfit) suggests that this isn’t exactly El. Well, not the one that left them, anyway.

The stranger bearing Eleven’s face unsticks his eyes from Erik’s form, looking over the rest of his friends with a level of confusion evident in his eyes that makes Erik more than a little concerned. He makes eye contact with Serena, raising a (trembling) hand to his hair and motioning as if he’s cutting his hair. (That’s not sign language, Erik notes, not really, why isn’t he signing like normal?) And then his eyes land on Hendrik and he scrambles to his feet, drawing his sword, breathing far too heavily.

Erik’s heart breaks. This isn’t their Eleven, is he? Something must have gone so, so wrong in his attempts to travel back; has he lost his memory, like Erik did? (No, no, he knows Serena’s hair was longer, he knows Hendrik was hunting him down…) What could have left him like this? “Hey, hey, El, calm down, it’s just us. And Hendrik, I guess, but he’s trustworthy.”

Hendrik gives Erik an inscrutable look. “I feel as though I should be insulted by this.”

“Henny-wenny, dear, you _did_ try to kill the poor dears several times over!” Sylv pats him on the shoulder, frowning as they look Eleven over. “You two have made amends, for sure! But I’m not so sure Eleven remembers that.” 

Jade steps forward, trying her luck. “Eleven, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Not-quite-Eleven gestures at Erik, as if expecting him to translate. “Okay, so long enough ago that you forgot that they all understand sign language now,” Erik says, more for their mystery not-exactly-friend’s benefit than for anyone else’s.

He stares at Erik for a moment, wide-eyed as though the very _concept_ of them all learning sign language for him is outlandish. (And from what Erik had gleaned from Eleven before they climbed Yggdrasil, this is probably exactly what he’s thinking.) And slowly, so slowly, his hands move. “ _I...I was listening to the high priest talk about my destiny, and getting myself ready for the trek through the First Forest, and I blinked and suddenly all of you were gone. I asked someone where you guys all were...well, I asked where Veronica was, and they sent me here."_

The First Forest...before they saved the world. Before the world even really _needed_ saving. El had lost all of that…

“Laddie, I think we might need to take ye to someone,” Rab tells him, mouthing _the tower_ to the rest of the party. Right. Back to the Timekeeper to demand some answers....

\---

She looks him over for all of two seconds before telling them, “No, his mission did not fail.”

“Then why is he like this?!” Jade asks, growing almost uncharacteristically angry. Erik wouldn’t be surprised if she went full Revamp on their only source of info, and he does notice her eyes flash pink before she glances at Eleven and wills it back down.

The Timekeeper shuffles backwards, presumably out of not wanting Jade to kill her. (Can she even _be_ killed?) “As I told you before, I know not the outcome of traveling back, only the steps to get there. And…” She pauses, as though she’s trying to remember something as lost to her as the past year is to Eleven. “I know not how I know this,” she murmurs, “but I can assure you, this is not the result of a failure.”

“So we’re back at square one, laddie,” Rab tells Eleven, clapping him on the back. Eleven winces, but for the most part, his attention is fixed on the Timekeeper, a strange mix of recognition and fear evident in his eyes. 

“ _It might be a long shot,”_ Eleven says, and boy does that stab Erik right in the heart (count on Eleven to twist his words against him), _“but maybe we could try Yggdrasil? She’d be our best bet, right?_ ”

Erik would rather never deal with Yggdrasil again, honestly, but he’s got a point. If anyone would have a clue, it would be the omniscient tree. He turns wordlessly, leading the way out of the Tower once more, stopping dead in his tracks (wow, poor word choice, Erik) when he finds Eleven grabbing his hand.

This wasn’t exactly uncommon, at least in the later months of their quest; he doesn’t remember too much of the weeks of amnesia, ironically enough, but he just barely recalls Eleven taking his hand when the pain of trying to remember got to be too much. And, of course, he had returned the favor in the wake of Veronica’s death, in those few days when that particular weight pressed on Eleven’s shoulders. (Though, he suspects, given the quick decision to go back to stop it, that weighed on Eleven far more than he cared to admit.)

But of course, that was all a different Eleven. An Eleven who had survived the end of the world and come out (mostly) on top, an Eleven who was strong and confident and brave. 

An Eleven who had chosen to tell Erik he loved him _right before leaving him forever_. So the hand in his serves not as a comfort, but as a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Eleven withdraws his hand. “ _Sorry, I should have asked first,_ ” he says, hands shaking, eyes wide with nervousness. “ _I just don’t really know what I’m doing, you know? And I still don’t quite trust Hendrik not to hurt me._ ”

Hendrik sighs. “Eleven, I can understand you clearly.”

Eleven’s face scrunches in distaste. “ _Ugh, my name sounds so weird coming out of your mouth…_ ”

For a moment, Erik can pretend this is _his_ Eleven, fill in the missing scars and cut out a piece of that duster with his mind’s eye, replacing it with a hastily-sewed scrap of fabric right above his heart. (“ _I_ _t’s staying”_ , Eleven had told everyone who asked, “ _it’s a sign of how I can do better.”_ ) For a moment, he can pretend everything is right again, but then Eleven gives him a strange look, and his gaze is familiar in an entirely wrong sort of way, and Erik’s heart falls back to the ground again.

“No, it’s alright,” he finally says. “I get it.”

Eleven grins, but there’s a strange sort of sadness behind it that Erik can’t fathom.

\---

Eleven gazes at Yggdrasil and Her branches with unbridled awe, and that joy quickly spreads to the rest of the party. Last time they’d been here, they were in a rush to get to the sword, and they never really took the time to appreciate how beautiful the view is. And it really is beautiful.

Erik would have loved to share this view with the real Eleven. Yet another joy he won’t get. But he looks at the Eleven they have now, wide-eyed and really happy for what feels like the first time in a _while_ , and he pushes that sadness down. No, there’s time to mourn later.

Eleven steps towards Yggdrasil’s Heart, and Erik almost instinctively wants to pull him back; from looking at everyone else, in their varying states of Overwhelmingly Tense, he can tell he’s not the only one. Nothing good came out of this place...but there’s no Mordegon this time, no Jasper. Hendrik’s on their side, and Carnelian is...well, who really knows where Carnelian stands, but regardless, he’s busy doing whatever the fuck he’s doing in the Bastion. Nothing’s going to hurt them here.

Unless someone was pulling the strings on Mordegon, but that’s a stupid thought. So he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and lets Eleven go ever closer to the Heart.

 _You have arrived once more, my dear Luminary,_ a voice echoes, whistling through the branches and gently laughing. Yggdrasil, he assumes? _Or should I say, Luminaries, plural? After all, saving the world is not one man’s job. Even Erdwin had Serenica_ **.** (Eleven bristles at the name before realizing, no, it’s not meant for him.)

Erik watches Eleven’s face wrinkle in confusion. “‘ _Once more’? You mean I’ve been here before?”_

A breeze blows on them, messing with Eleven’s hair as it drifts past him. _Hm...yes, my dear Eleven, but not quite. Your other self once climbed these branches, alongside your companions. By now, he’s likely making the same trip once more._

Eleven glances at Rab the moment they hear his name, standing a bit straighter as if to say _see, that’s my name, not the other one._ Even though Rab hasn’t called him that since long before Erik found his way back to them. But, of course, this Eleven wouldn’t know that, would he? And speaking of _that_ Eleven…

“Um, Lady Yggdrasil,” Serena begins, speaking with far more formality than Erik will ever manage to this _talking tree_ , “you mentioned Eleven’s ‘other self.’ Do you mean that there’s another Eleven somewhere?”

_Yes and no. The Eleven beside you is as much my chosen Luminary as the one who traveled by your sides. When your Eleven shattered the time sphere, he traded places with the Eleven present at the point in time to which he returned._

Eleven seems to mull this particular development in his head, over and over; Erik can practically watch the gears in his head churning away. Not that Erik can really blame him, it’s a lot to process. “So you haven’t forgotten anything, after all,” he mumbles. “That sucks. I figured we could find a tree root to jog your memory, like mine.”

The breeze returns, separating the spikes in Erik’s hair and driving Eleven _and_ Serena to a laughing fit at the sight of Erik’s face drowning in strands of blue. Great, the tree is a smartass. _I think, perhaps, even if it were possible to retrieve them, it may be best if those memories stay from him, at least for now. He’s already rather disoriented._

Right. Smartass Tree has a point.

“ _Okay. No new memories...so then, what do I do now? There’s gotta be something to fight, right?”_

“Honored Luminary, with our foe defeated, the monsters will likely calm themselves. All that is left to do is rebuild.” Hendrik attempts to stifle a laugh at Eleven’s face; apparently, he’d prefer Hendrik use his name than call him Luminary.

“In other words, darling,” Sylv adds, throwing an arm around Eleven’s shoulders, “we survived the apocalypse, so now it’s time to celebrate!”

When Mordegon had finally fallen, Eleven had let out a sigh of relief and nearly passed out on Cetacea’s back. “ _Finally done with this nightmare,”_ he’d told Erik. _“I can relax_ …” So of course Erik expects Eleven (especially a younger Eleven, without quite as much weight on his shoulders) to feel the same.

But instead, Eleven tenses, rigid as a board. “ _No, there’s gotta be...I can’t. I’m supposed to be a hero, and I haven’t_ done _anything. I_ just _sat through a whole lecture from...whatever his name is, about how the whole world is resting on my shoulders, and now I’m just supposed to_ relax _?”_ Jade manages to say about half a letter before Eleven signs on and on, as though he hasn’t heard her at all. “ _However this ‘other me’ saved the world, it killed Veronica. Let’s start with that, there’s gotta be a way to bring her back.”_

Yet another breeze blows by, this time a bit more harsh. _There was but one way that I know of; to travel through time, back to the turning point of your adventure. That course of travel brought you here in the first place. Your friends are right, Eleven; there is little left to do but celebrate Erdrea’s safety._

This seems to do little at all to dissuade Eleven’s frustration.

“We could always take a trip to Nautica,” Jade muses. “Marina can see the surface world, right? So if he won’t believe Yggdrasil, perhaps Her Majesty can show him for himself.”

That’s probably the best course of action, Erik has to admit. But that sour expression never leaves Eleven’s face, even as they practically _drag_ him onto Cetacea. He can kind of remember what it was like not to remember anything, so he supposes he can relate.

But it’s one thing to treat everyone like a stranger, to _believe_ everyone’s a stranger. It’s another thing entirely to look someone in the face who you’ve known for so long and see someone who’s practically a stranger, even though you _do_ remember them.

Despite all his bitterness towards this new (old?) Eleven, he can’t help but feel for him. No wonder he’s so uncomfortable.

\---

To say that Eleven’s _uncomfortable_ is an understatement.

Is it a relief to not have to worry about Mordegon anymore? Of course it is, Eleven would be lying through his teeth (well, his fingers, he supposes) if he claimed otherwise. But he didn’t earn this. He doesn’t really belong here, and as much as everyone is putting on a kind face, he knows they feel the same.

Not to mention that whatever happened that killed Veronica is, apparently, bad enough that the literal World Tree, keeper of memories or whatever, doesn’t want him to remember it yet. Or ever. Maybe he can pry the info out of Erik—okay, actually, not Erik, because Erik’s being Weird at him for whatever reason. Serena’s probably a better bet. Or maybe he can guilt Jade or Sylv (or even Rab, if Eleven can get his nose out of those stupid magazines) into talking about it?

“Darling, whatever are you fussing over in that head of yours?” Sylv asks, gently poking him on the temple. (Probably not safe when you’re supposed to be steering, Sylv.) “You’re supposed to be _relaxing_ , not getting yourself worked up over everything.”

 _“I know, I know. There’s just a lot to think about.”_ He sighs. “ _I don’t wanna beat a dead—okay, no, that’s a terrible turn of phrase. I guess...what happened to Veronica? And why does Arboria look like something exploded there?”_

An uncomfortable silence descends upon the group. He watches Serena and Sylv discuss something just out of earshot, Rab and Jade joining in not too long after. It’s just a mishmash of whispers, as far as Eleven’s concerned; he glances at Erik, but his partner’s face betrays almost nothing, other than the same old look of _you’re not the right Eleven._ (And even though the rest of them trust Hendrik now for some reason, he doesn’t even know where to _begin_ with that can of worms.)

After a moment, the impromptu whisper huddle breaks apart, and Serena sighs, taking a deep breath. “Um, Eleven, when we went to Yggdrasil the first time...we were followed by Jasper and…” She trails off, nervously clenching and unclenching her hands, and Eleven really doesn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. The words “Jasper” and “Yggdrasil” in the same sentence paint a really horrible picture.

 _“So I fucked up.”_ Of course he did. “ _That’s why Arboria’s trashed, isn’t it? I fucked up, and now Veronica’s dead and the world’s gone to shit.”_ No wonder his older self wanted to go back.

“We couldn’t touch him. Whatever magic he was using made all our attacks just bounce off him.” Jade pulls him into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault, Eleven. I promise.”

“Oy, loves, I ‘ate to interrupt the moment.” Dave cuts in, and Eleven’s glad there’s at least _one_ thing that hasn’t changed, “but ‘oever’s got the ‘arp ‘ad best get playin’!”

Eleven rummages through his bag, but it finds its way into Jade’s hands before he can even think about retrieving it; she nimbly plucks the strings and the ship sinks down to Nautica.

Nautica, where the walls outside the palace had, apparently, been _obliterated_. Mordegon’s followers, it seems, hadn’t even left the sea floor undisturbed. Wonderful.

Serena gasps, and when Eleven turns to her, he notices his whole party’s gaze fixed on the ground below them. Following their eyes, he looks at the sand below his feet.

It’s dotted with a string of flowers, beautiful glowing blossoms laying nearly flat on the ground, connected by thin vines that stretch into the distance. These _definitely_ weren’t here last time. He traces their path back to the palace, beyond one of the garden walls.

Poetic, he supposes, that something as beautiful as this could come from something so terrible. Well, he _assumes_ it was terrible.

Sylv runs towards the palace, taking extra care not to trample the flowers. Serena and Jade follow not too far behind, and before long, Eleven and Dave are the only ones still left by the Stallion.

“Y’know, love,” Dave says, plopping an alarmingly-large hand on Eleven’s shoulder, “you’re not the only one ‘o knows what it’s like to look at a friend an’ see a stranger. After Yggie fell, it took weeks for Sylv to get back to their old self.”

Eleven quickly notes the pronoun shift (huh, that wasn’t exactly something he had expected to come out of an apocalypse), nodding as he wanders off towards the rest of the group. Well, everyone _else_ might be weird about it, but at least Dave’s in his corner.

\---

“Welcome, dear Luminary,” Marina, in her usual song-like cadence, begins as soon as they finally make it to her throne room. “Though this time to you is strange, I only hope you quickly can adapt to your world’s change.”

Well, that's a stretch of a rhyme, but Eleven isn’t going to _say_ anything about it.

Marina seems to anticipate his next question, as she so often does. “Dear saviors, I recall that I have told you once before: I have my ways to see what happens on Erdrea’s shores.” She gestures to a door behind (and above) her. “Now, come with me, I’ll show you all the sights that you could wish…”

She floats upwards towards the door, leaving her rhyme completely unfinished. Eleven glances at the rest of the party; Serena, bless her heart, is trying to propel herself off the ground by sheer leg strength alone, and Sylv climbs on top of Hendrik’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to follow the mermaid queen. (Hendrik simply covers his face, clearly deeply embarrassed by the ongoing events.) Even as silly and out-of-place as he feels, Eleven can’t help giggling at the sight.

Marina gazes down at them, amusement clearly glimmering in her eyes. “Oh, goodness, it seems I forgot; you seven aren’t fish!”

Erik groans. “Your Highness, did you _seriously_ set us up for that joke?” He rolls his eyes as a mermaid yanks him up (probably annoyed at him for dissing Her Majesty).

When the seven of them are finally settled on their feet in Marina’s throne room, she swishes her scepter, and a strange glow emits from the orb atop it. “Now,” she says, in her usual rhyming tone, “my spell should send a rainstorm blustering through the lands, and with that, I can show Eleven how the world still stands!” 

The pearl at the center of the room (huh, how had he not noticed that before?) glows in tandem with her scepter, and the world around them fades. Not unlike a vision from Yggdrasil, he thinks; maybe they’re connected, somehow? Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing his journey has thrown at him, that’s for sure. He’s left with his thoughts for just an instant before the world regains its color, settling in an incredibly familiar place.

Well, familiar, except for the cannons, and the tents, and the barricades. What the _fuck_ happened to Cobblestone?

Rab seems to sense his confusion, reaching for his hand. “Yer folks are made’a stronger stuff than ye’d think, laddie.”

Hendrik, hesitantly, nods. “I ensured that no harm would come to them, Lumin—er, Eleven. We simply kept them in the dungeons, until…” He trails off, as though he doesn’t want to talk about whatever happened. (Which, considering that it _somehow_ ended in the apocalypse, Eleven can sorta understand, even if it’s Hendrik.) “Regardless, they are safe, now. The Last Bastion held firm through all things sent by the Lord of Shadows and the fiends at his side.”

Erik winces at that. Weird, but not the point. No, the point is…

" _They’re alive? Mum, Gemma...all of them?”_ This should be good news, it _is_ good news, but...he hasn’t earned this. This is someone else’s happy ending. Why did the other Eleven leave this behind?

Goddess, he hopes he didn’t fall in love with Veronica. She looked like a _kid_ last time he saw her, and besides that, they weren’t always on the best of terms anyway.

Marina nods at him, and as if she herself wills it, there they are, Mum and Gemma and Dunstan and even Cole, sewing and serving and doing whatever they can to help the town rebuild. And from the looks of it, there are a _lot_ more mouths to feed. It’s like the whole of Heliodor is here. (And as if to prove that little thought, there goes _Derk_ , of all people.)

He holds up a hand, grabbing everyone’s attention. _“Hang on. I want to see it for myself. All of it.”_ It won’t feel real seeing it from Marina’s little bubble, no. He’s just an observer here, of sorts, a Luminary without purpose, so why not do some observing?

Marina blinks at him, a strange expression crossing her face as her scepter begins to fade, taking their vision of the world with it. “Very well, dear hero. It seems your time here, now, is through. This world of ours is yours, now, all that’s left is up to you!”

Again, a stretch, but he’s still not gonna fight her on this. He lets himself (and his not-quite-friends) be led back down by a squadron of mermaids, and once he’s back on his feet again, he simply stays there, thinking. Not pouting, despite what his face might say; there’s just a lot to think about.

Serena claps her hands together, interrupting the deluge of thoughts in Eleven’s head. “I agree; the lot of us should take one more world trip, to show Eleven how everything is!”

“Aye, not a bad idea, lassie,” Rab replies.

Jade, too, nods. “I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

The rest of the group, in turn, agrees, even Erik (who’s still pouting, for _whatever_ reason). Eleven supposes he agrees, but he hates the idea of a _vacation_ , which is really what this is, for all their talk of helping him. No, he’s just gonna go with this to see for himself if there’s really nothing more the Luminary can do. He inherited that burden, he’s sure he’s not gonna get out of it so easily.

He prepares a Zoom spell, but Sylv stops him with a hand on his arm. (Hesitant, like Eleven’s gonna break from a single touch. Wow, what the hell happened to make them think he’s fragile?) “Darling, if you don’t mind, I would rather we travel the old-fashioned way! For old times’ sake, hm?” He hears Serena whisper something about spell lines not being right, which sounds like bullshit, but he tries again and finds that, no, he really can’t go to Cobblestone by spell. _Weird._

So he sighs, following their lead back to the ship, settling into his old cabin, still blissfully available, and fishing out his journal. 

_Dear me_ , he begins, even as he’s a bit alarmed that he’s capable of writing underwater, _I dunno what you expected when you went back in time, but I don’t think it was this. It’s pretty nice that you get a happy ending, I guess, getting Veronica back (honestly, what do you see in her?), stopping whatever happened that killed her. No one’s telling me. No one’s really telling me_ anything _. It sucks being surrounded by people you should know and feeling like you don’t know a thing about them._

He frowns, furrowing his brow, willing tears away as he keeps writing. _But I’ll manage, I guess. Just promise me one thing: take care of my friends. You’re gonna be a great hero over there, and I don’t know all of their problems, but I know they’ll need some help._

He doesn’t sign it, simply closes the journal (pen still lodged inside, as is his usual journal-writing habit) and tries to sleep without crying. (Well, too much, anyway.)

He dreams of light. Just light, nothing else, and it still lurks behind his eyelids as he wakes. He blinks his eyes open, peering at the desk by his bed (that’s why he picked this room in the first place) and spotting his now-open journal.

Wait, what?! Goddess above, first his friends are acting weird at him and now they’re snooping through his things?

He springs off the bed, feeling the sway of the ocean under his feet as he grabs his journal. None of the other pages have been touched, except for his most recent entry, defiled by a horrified-looking doodle of a face around his line about Veronica and the caption **goddess, no, not like** **_that_** , and a quickly-scrawled line at the bottom.

**Hey, other me. They don’t need me to take care of them, they’re strong enough on their own.**

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: thechavanator (main) OR eleven-of-light (dq spoiler blog)  
> twitter: nonotfromportal  
> discord: Chel!#2061
> 
> PLEASE talk to me about this game I've been hyperfixated since technically the Hero's smash reveal and then I played through Yggdrasil and I couldn't shut up from mid-july onward
> 
> btw if you were curious about the flowers, it's cause this story technically takes place in the act 2 equivalent of Fondness; the flowers (they're called Ocean Starflowers!) are mentioned in there, alongside like seventy other fictional flowers.
> 
> tbh I have no idea what the update schedule is on this, it's just Whenever The Fuck.


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